Hey guys :) Shiloh here! Well the idea for this specific story came to me when I spotted my toothbrush on the floor. My younger brother likes to take it, and I'm sort of glad he did. This Fanfic is going to be a series of stories about Sherlock and Mycroft as kids, and adults. Thanks so much for reading, and please review! Thanks! –Shiloh

If you've got a brother with a really big head,

The only place he wouldn't look is under the bed

Childhood

Mycroft gazed out the window that over-looked his front yard. His younger brother Sherlock was clambering up the portly, brown tree located in front of their home. He sighed in disagreement. Why would anyone want to exert themselves outside for absolutely no purpose, when they could easily remain indoors and entertain themselves? He thought to himself.

Turning away from the window, his eyes fell upon the television. A well-dressed news reporter was informing her viewers of a tragedy that had occurred in another country. The problem had started as they all seemed to, a result of a political disagreement. The solution to this "complicated happening" was obvious to Mycroft, as the system of the government appeared in black and white to him. The conundrums government officials often found challenging were the ones he liked to think about.

"Mycroft, go and fetch your brother. It's time for dinner." He heard his mother's high voice shout from the kitchen. Pushing himself up from his chair, he made his way down the hallway and out the front door.

He spotted Sherlock perched on a branch in this tree, his curly hair dangling over his face as he examined an insect. His small feet were suspended in the air, gently swaying in the breeze. Birds chirped in the distance, creating a peaceful environment. A small smile sprouted on Mycroft's face as he realized that his younger brother was oblivious to his presence. This would be entertaining.

"SHERLOCK!" He bellowed, making sure that his voice was incredibly loud. The six year old in the tree jumped ten feet up into the air, his cobalt blue eyes widening in surprise. Soon, gravity pushed the younger boy back to the Earth, and he landed on the lush green grass of their lawn with a thud.

Mycroft could not contain his amusement. Wrapping his hands around his stomach, he bent over, attempting to quell his laughter. He felt a tear run down his cheek as his gut contracted repeatedly. He could hear his younger brother picking himself up off the ground, groaning as his sore bones protested.

"You bloody idiot," Sherlock howled. "That really hurt!" Mycroft looked up from the ground, suppressing a smile. The appearance of his angry sibling had almost sparked another fit of laughter.

Sherlock's brown hair was coated with leaves and twigs, and his pale face was contorted into a face of rage. His brother's small arms were folded across his chest, and he attempted to give Mycroft the death glare.

"It's time for dinner." He managed to say in a formal voice. Before Sherlock could yell at him, Mycroft turned on his heels, making a beeline for the front door. Sherlock wouldn't dare to argue with him in front of their mother.

Evading the wrath of his younger brother, Mycroft quickly entered his home, taking his place at the dining room table. His mother and father were already seated at the table, and they smiled at his entry.

"How was your day today, sweetheart?" His mother inquired with her sing-song voice. Despite the fact that everyone in her family was an intellectual genius, Mycroft's mother tried to carry on normal conversations.

"It was usual. We got our reports back." He stated curtly, spooning a mouthful of soup into his mouth. His mother practiced what his father called "cooking binges", which meant that she only prepared a certain type of meal for a long period of time. This month, it was soup.

"And?" His mother gave him an encouraging smile.

"Mine was the best in the class." Mycroft didn't even look up from his plate when his mother applauded. He was use to outdoing every student in his grade, as they were all idiots.

"Way to go sweet heart," She smiled warmly. "Did you tell Sherlock that dinner was ready?" Mycroft opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped mid-sentence.

"Yes, he told me," Sherlock said as he took his seat at the table. "But I had to wash up in the bathroom." He glared at his brother, and Mycroft smiled in response.

Dinner had gone smoothly. Sherlock kept his mouth shut about the incident, much to Mycroft's surprise. The family debated about topics they had seen on the news, and Sherlock had complained about his hatred of school.

Mycroft aided his mother with the task of washing the dishes, while his father lectured Sherlock on the importance of education. He always enjoyed eavesdropping on the conversations the two had.

After every plate was sparkling, Mycroft excused himself from the kitchen. He walked down the hallway that led to his bedroom. Passing his brothers room, he stopped in the bathroom that the two of them shared to brush his teeth, as he performed this task after every meal. He froze when he saw that his toothbrush was absent from its home on the counter.

Everyone has "pet peeves". Those little things that make you incredibly angry, and annoyed. For some it is un-organization, and others hate it when you touch their face. Mycroft, on the other hand, detested it when other people messed with his toothbrush. The utensil was used to clean his teeth, and for some reason the action was incredibly soothing. The idea that someone would take his sacred item of peace infuriated him.

"SHERLOCK!" He yelled for the second time in an hour. He heard footsteps as the younger boy charged down the hallway, until he appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, brother dear?" Sherlock asked innocently, his dimples displayed alongside an adorable grin. Mycroft found this even more cantankerous.

"WHERE IS MY TOOTHBRUSH?"

"Your toothbrush, why would I-"Sherlock stopped feigning innocence as Mycroft backed him into the wall. His curl-coated head hit the wall with a thud, and he realized that he there was nowhere to hide.

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION." Mycroft growled, raising his hand in a threatening gesture. His little brother flinched, shielding his face with his hands.

"Mycroft, Sherlock, what's going on?" He heard his mother yell from the living room. Mycroft turned his head at the sound of her voice, and Sherlock took the opportunity to escape. The agile boy had already darted down the hallway by the time Mycroft got his feet to move.

"Come back here!" He shouted, grabbing an umbrella from its place by his door. Brandishing a new weapon, Mycroft pursued Sherlock down the lengthy hallway.

Fortunately, the brother in question tripped over a shoe that had been carelessly left in the middle of the floor. He scrambled to get up, but was inevitably cornered by Mycroft.

Raising the umbrella high over his head, Mycroft asked his question once more. Sherlock's mysterious blue eyes widened at the sight of the weapon, aware that his brother would strike him if he didn't answer. After inhaling deeply, he finally responded.

"If you've got a brother with a REALLY BIG HEAD, the one place he wont look is under the," Sherlock waited for his brother to finish his rhyme.

"Bed!" Mycroft shouted. He dropped his umbrella and burst into his younger brother's bedroom. Dropping to his knees, he peered under the wooden piece of furniture his brother slept on.

There, resting on a single piece of paper was his toothbrush. Mycroft quickly collected it in his palm, triumphantly raising it in the air. He turned around to see Sherlock giving him a knowing smile.

Mycroft walked out of the room, and into the bathroom. He squeezed a dollop of toothpaste onto his brush as he looked in the mirror. This wasn't the first time his brother had "challenged" him with a rhyme, and he knew that it was defiantly not the last either.

Present Day

John laughed as Sarah concluded her joke. They were sitting at a small table inside the restaurant located next to his flat. Sarah had invited him to dinner, and he had gladly accepted.

Sherlock had been at Mycroft's for the day. Apparently his mother was staying at Mycroft's home, and the eldest Holmes brother had forced his sibling to visit. This had left John to stay home alone at the flat, completely un-entertained. Resulting in his eager acceptance to Sarah's invitation.

"So," Sarah said. "Are you not using to having a conversation over a meal?" John felt his cheeks turn a shade of bright red. He hadn't noticed that he had been letting his date do all the talking.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry. Sherlock usually deduces things about people while we eat," He explained. He enjoyed trying to figure out how his flat mate could tell you someone's life story at a glance. "He's not a social butterfly, if you catch my drift. Sarah nodded and took a sip of water. John was about to bring up the weather when his companion began to choke.

"Are you alri-" He stopped speaking when Sarah pointed at the large window positioned behind him. Turning around in his seat, John spotted the cause of her excitement.

Outside the calm atmosphere of the restaurant, Sherlock Holmes was sprinting down the sidewalk in front of the window. He was constantly looking over his shoulder, and a small smiled played at his lips. John was shocked.

"What in the world is he doing?" He wondered aloud. His confusion increased when an angry Mycroft Holmes, came into view. The two siblings ran out of the line of the window, and John could infer that they had entered his flat. Turning his gaze to Sarah, he gave her a questioning look.

"Do you want to follow them?" She asked excitedly. John nodded his head vigorously as he sprung out of his chair and out the front door. They hadn't ordered there meal yet and had nothing to pay for.

John rushed out the door, and up the steps that led to his rooms with Sarah right behind him. The couple stepped into the living room, to find an incredible sight. Mycroft Holmes was on top of his brother, pinning him to the ground.

"WHERE IS IT?" John heard him snarl. Sherlock was two busy gasping for breath between laughs to answer. John could only stare/

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION." The eldest brother bellowed. Sherlock sucked in a breath, attempting to stop his laughter.

"If you've got a big brother with a really big head, the one place he wont look is under the," Sherlock burst into a new fit of laughter before he could finish his sentence. Mycroft leapt off his brother, and raced into Sherlock's bedroom. He emerged two seconds later, a toothbrush clutched in his hands.

Mycroft passed by his hysterical brother, and gave a nod of acknowledgment to the dumbfounded couple standing in the middle of the room. He placed his hand on the doorknob, and let a small smile sprout on his lips.

"You've had plenty of time, to come up with a new rhyme."
-

I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter of this series lol:) Each chapter will center around a rhyme young Sherlock used against his brother. I don't know if I'm going to do a past and present with each chapter, but it worked out with this one. Please Review! Thanks!-Shiloh